Not Alone
by Phoenixfyretail
Summary: - AU!Verse -What if the mission had seven people active, instead of only six? And what would happen if two of them were stranded on Mars? A look into the closeness between two people who know that survival is minimal, and between two who are alone. Rated T because Mars and Mark. Mark/OC
1. The Beginning

Let me get something straight. Moving in Martian gravity, even though it is lighter than earth gravity, isn't easy when you are starting to suffer from a lack of nitrogen.

I should start by explaining as to why I am on Mars, I suppose.

The Ares program. Sending crews via the Hermes to Mars to live there for 31 days and perform experiments and gather information and samples and what not. I had been part of the Ares 3 program, and we had been 6 days into the mission, and it had been the most exciting and greatest 6 days of my life.

I don't when someone will read this. You'll eventually find this, I guess, after I'm long gone. Ya'll, if you are reading this, I want you to know that I'm not blaming you. You did what regulations require, and in your place, I would've done the exact same thing. I'm happy you guys survived. If ya'll do read this, don't blame yourselves, please. But I want you to know. I didn't die on Sol 6. Let me explain here.

To anybody else, if you are reading this, lemme tell ya how Mars missions work. I had been sent along with 6 other crewmen, and I was ranked the second to last member of the crew, with only Watney below me. I was an electrician and computer engineer, basically the crew's fix it woman for any electrical problems or highly advanced computer malfunctions, such as if the communications computers stopped working, then I would be the woman for the job.

We got up to Earth orbit the normal way, through an ordinary ship to Hermes. All the Ares Missions use Hermes to get to and from Mars. It's super huge and cost a shit ton to build, so there's only one.

Hermes is powered by ion engines. It accelerates by spewing Argon out the back end really fast to get a teensy ass amount of acceleration. (Add to that, some Nuclear reactors to power things, and you're set.) So needless to say, with a small amount of acceleration in space, you get going really fast. We got to Mars 124 days later without killing each other, and it was the most fun I've had in years. I don't feel like trotting down that memory lane right now though. Maybe later.

So, now the real trick to making Mars missions go smoothly. Having all of our shit there in advance. Since supplies aren't fragile and won't die if they go down in a tumble dryer of hell, they can hit the ground really hard. We, however, the fragile humans that we are, were soft landed via the MDV. Mars Descent Vehicle. It's basically a tin can with some light thrusters and a couple chutes attached.

But the most important thing that was there was the MAV. The Mars Ascent Vehicle. It's pretty neat, and that's how we got back to Hermes after the surface missions were completed. It was also constantly communicating with Houston, so if there were any problems with it, we would have just done a loop around Mars and come home without ever landing.

So, needless to say, you can imagine how devastated I was when the MAV was gone.

Through a ridiculous series of events that led to me almost dying and an even more ridiculous series of events that led to me living, I stand here now. In the hab. Yay. Let me tell you what happened.

The mission is designed to handle sandstorm gusts up to 150 kph. So, needless to say, when we got smacked with 175 kph winds, NASA was pretty nervous. We all got into our spacesuits and huddled in the hab in case it lost pressure. But the hab wasn't the real issue here.

The MAV is a spaceship, and they have a lot of delicate parts. They can't just sit out there and get sandblasted for forever. After an hour and a half of storming, NASA gave the order to abort. We all were really reluctant, because who wants to leave Mars after just six days? But if we had stayed any longer, we would have all been stranded down here, and trust me, that's no fun.

We went through the storm to get to the MAV. It was dangerous, but we had no choice. Everyone made it but me.

One of the smaller communications dishes, which was still huge by the way, was ripped off the tower it stood on and was being tossed around in the wind. I was in the back, just behind Mark, and it came out of freaking nowhere, smashing directly into me. Given that it was so freaking huge and I'm an average height, 150 pound female, I was thrown backward with incredible force. The last thing I remember is an unimaginable pain in my torso and Beck's yell of, 'Harley!'

* * *

I woke up to the oxygen alarm in my suit. After a moment of laying there and wondering why I wasn't dead, my next thought was why on earth (Bad pun not intended) wasn't I able to move. I laid there and struggled to free my arm, and after another couple seconds of struggling, pulled it free from the mountain of sand I was buried under. My oxygen levels were at 82%. Oh hell. I was fine for now, but if I stayed like this for too long, I was screwed.

I started digging at the sand mountain covering me, and after a few minutes of frantic digging, I uncovered enough of my torso to start maneuvering out from underneath it. I started to shift out from underneath it, which is damn hard in a space suit, might I add, and nearly blacked out from the pain.

Slowly, I lowered myself back down and tried to breathe. I had been hit squarely in my low torso, and trying to pull myself up from my stomach wasn't doing me any good. I was going to have to roll over if I wanted to get up any time soon. I kicked some more sand off my legs and wiggled my hips slightly, groaning in agony at the pain. But if I didn't get to the hab I was going die from oxygen toxicity, and that wasn't preferable.

I shimmied out from the sand mountain and stood slowly, and I discovered that I had rolled down a small sand dune, and had the communication dish laying in two nearby. After scrabbling my way up the dune, I saw something that made me very pleased, and something that nearly brought me to tears.

The hab was intact, (Internal cheerleading routine!) and the MAV was gone (Sobs of misery). Well, now I know for sure that I'm screwed. But I definitely wasn't going to just keel over on the surface. I skip-walked my way to the nearest airlock and scrambled inside. I then waited for it to pressurize, throwing off my helmet with a gasp for air and a gasp of pain as once it did. I had survived.

I made it inside the Hab, and was halfway through fumbling out of my suit when I looked up at the noise of terror. I screamed in shock, matching Mark's yelp of astonishment, with mutual cries of;

"What the hell!?"

"The hell!?"

Mark Watney was standing in front of me, mouth open in shock, looking very real. Why was he here!? He wasn't supposed to be here! No…

"I knew it. I died, and this is what hell is like. Being stranded on Mars and having someone else here that you care about with you to slowly die." I say, throwing my arms to the ceiling and then crumpling over because, ow-fucking-hell-that-hurt.

Mark came over, and I noticed that he was shirtless with slight bloodstains dried on his hip. He gently grabs my shoulders and helps me up, eyes dark and concerned.

"No Harley. You're not dead. Just like I'm not dead. How did you survive?" He asks, eyeing me for any visible wounds, though his eyes were still wide with utter shock and slight horror, because oh god, we were stranded on Mars. The crew had lost TWO of us, in rapid succession. I can't even imagine the mental turmoil of realizing that fact.

"I was hit by the communications dish, the secondary one. Threw me back about a hundred meters or so and buried me in a mountain of sand. How did you live? And how did they think we were both… never mind, I know why they think I was dead." I say, showing him my smashed bio monitor. Add to that getting slammed and thrown down a hill with a communications dish, and ayup, I looked dead.

I finished stripping off my suit while he explained how he lived. He also put on a shirt, much to my dismay. He was a pretty sight to look at, but I was more concerned when I finally got a clear view of the wound he carried on his side.

"Is that where you were…?" He looks at me with his shirt half pulled down, and nods. I make my way over and slowly touch just above it, and he doesn't move, just breathes. Mark feels alive underneath my fingertips, and I revel in it for a few seconds for pulling away. He just pulls his shirt the rest of the way down, and watches me, eyes careful.

I shake my dark hair out of its long braid, and then cringe at the pain in my hips and lower abdomen. Damn it, that hurt like freaking hell. I slowly lower myself to sit on one of the chairs in the hab and pull my shirt up enough to show my lower abs and dear god, I know why I hurt so bad.

After edging my pants down the slightest bit, I saw that I was bruised down to my pelvis. The skin was several nasty shades of blue, black, and purple, and it looked pretty bad. I hear Mark come around, and his strangled sound of horror.

"Oh god, Harley." I look up at him and back down to the deep bruising, and gently press a hand to it, feeling gently for any broken bones or injured organs. Thankfully, there's nothing seriously wrong, other than the level of pain I was feeling. Mark came over offering Vicodin, and I gratefully accepted them, dry swallowing the pills.

He stared at the deep bruising lacing across my hips, and his face was unreadable. I cocked a brow at him, and waited for him to say something.

"Mark?" I asked, when he didn't say anything. He looked up at me, dark eyes worried.

"You sure you're alright?" Because dammit, if he was going to keep talking like that, that would be the death of me. He sounded so small and almost broken, as if he thought it was his fault. I sighed and dropped my shirt back down, standing with some difficulty.

"I'll be okay Mark. It's not your fault." I said, trying to resist the rising urge to hold him close and reassure him that it would be okay, even though I knew it probably wouldn't. We were totally stranded down here, with limited food, equipment that was our only life support, and no communications. He looked at me, probably thinking the same thoughts that I was.

"I know. We need a plan."

"Yep. Any ideas?" I ask, looking to him almost hopefully. He met my blue eyes with something akin to hope. He was dead set on keeping a positive attitude. I decided that it sounded like a fabulous idea and I stood straighter, regaining my usual proud posture.

"Did the communications dish survive?"

"Nope. Damn thing cracked in half."

"Well, fuck."

"Agreed."


	2. Comfort

Mark and Harley

They tucked themselves into their bunks, happy to finally lay down. Mark sighed, stretching his back, wondering how the hell he was going to keep the two of them alive. That's right. Two. He looked over at her. She was laying in her own bunk, blankets tucked up under her chin, headphones in her ears, happily listening to music in her down time.

They had enough food to feed 7 people for 62 days. There was just the two of them now, and with her eating half rations and him three-quarter rations, it would last, but not long enough. She was small, but well-muscled and built. Strong. Her long hair was loose too, free from its normal tight braid.

As he laid there, thinking quietly, he heard Harley turn over, pull out her headphones and relax down into her covers, sighing quietly. He stretched again, finally feeling the pop in his back that he'd wanted, good riddance.

Within minutes of laying back down, he was aware of how cold it was. Absolutely cold. He turned over on his side, and huddled up under his blankets. It was minutely warmer. Great. He laid there, pondering if it was worth taking the risk of freezing his balls off to turn the heat up, when he froze.

He could hear her shivering. Her teeth chattering, even though she was desperately trying to silence them. Her breath was labored, trying to breathe evenly through each shiver. She was smaller than him. Had way less body mass to warm herself. No way was she going to retain heat well. Dammit.

"Mark?" Came her quiet voice. She was trying to hide the shaking of it. Not well enough though.

I looked up at her. "You cold too?" I heard her nod.

"F-freezing." I was laying in the top bunk across from hers. I could see her light eyes gleaming in the faint lights.

"Come on over here. We can share. Bring your pillow and your blanket though." I scooted over, whining as I lost my warm spot. "Goddamn that's cold."

She climbed out of her bunk and blankets, shivering violently, grabbing them up, and tossing her pillow to me. I caught it, and set it beside me. She made her way to me, crawling in next to me and throwing her blankets over mine. She climbed into the blanket pile, tucking herself in next to me, under both layers of bedding.

I slowly relaxed back down next to her in the darkness, and I realized how much warmer it was. She was still shivering, arms around herself. Dammit. I scooted closer, and now that I was inches from her, I could see the blush painted across her cheeks. So cute. But cold still, and we weren't havin' any of that. Nope.

"S-sorry to b-b-bother you." She said through chattering teeth. I smiled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You're not. Don't worry about it." She nodded and I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close. She gasped in surprise, but didn't move away. Slowly, I tucked my other arm under her pillow, cradling her head. Harley moved closer to me, her arms tucked between our chests, bent knees brushing my thighs. My feet were cold.

"My feet are cold." She said, laughing quietly.

"Mine too." I agreed, holding her closer yet, and tangling our legs, her leg between mine. Her toes were like ice, and I yelped when they brushed my calf, causing her to laugh at me. Her forehead brushed my throat, and I blushed a bit when I realized that her head was resting on my shoulder. I sighed, and held her close, reveling in the warmth surrounding us in our blanket cocoon. She smiled into my shoulder.

"Thanks Mark." I nodded, lips brushing her hair. I choked up a bit, enjoying the feeling of not being alone. She was with me. Harley Chima was with me. My company. My girl. Mine. Damn it all, if it came down to it, I would get her off this planet and sacrifice myself if I had to. I'd prefer not to, though.

"Harley?" she lifted her head, looking at me.

"Hmmm?" She hadn't moved away. I leaned forward a bit.

"If I were to kiss you, would you hate me?"

"I didn't know that was possible." She said, and I could feel the blush on her cheeks. One hand behind her head, I pulled her to me gently, tilting my face up to meet hers. Her lips brushed mine in a gentle kiss, and I pulled her flush against my chest, her arms slipping around my shoulders, fingers tangling in the thick fabric of my shirt.

She deepened the kiss, tongue flicking out to graze my lip. I opened my mouth, allowing her in, and she took it, tongue swirling down mine. Her hands stroked down my back, now resting on my hips, and I took the liberties of running my hands down her back. Holy shit. She was CURVY. A full bust slimmed down to a slender waist, and flared out again into full hips, a fact hidden by the baggy clothes she always wore. My hands settled on the curves of her hips, fingers just brushing the skin underneath her shirt.

Her small hands slipped up the back of my shirt, and danced along the muscles of my back, resting at halfway along my rib cage. We parted for air, but our foreheads touched.

"I've been meaning to do that for a while now. I was just worried that Lewis was gonna kill me." I grinned at her. I was enjoying the feel of her calloused palms on my skin. Her hands were cool to the touch, but not cold.

"I'm in the same boat." She smiled back, pressing a kiss to my forehead. She brought her hands around to the front, palms pressed against the skin of my chest. Her eyes searched mine out, and I watched her face as her hands traced down my torso with utmost gentleness. They stopped when they reached my new scar, from where I had been stabbed by the antennae.

"This doesn't hurt you anymore, right?" She asked, her tone worried. Her fingers were so gentle.

"No. Hasn't in a long while." She nodded in relief, and she slid her hands out from under my shirt to come up and cuddle against my chest. I held Harley close, and she sighed in contentment, warm breath on my throat proving to be relaxing. Slowly, we drifted into sleep.

When we woke the next day, we both got up, got dressed, and continued with the normal day. There were no catastrophic events to report. When night came around though, she looked at me hopefully, and I sighed, beckoning her on up with me. She came up, curling up next to me, happily tucking into the warm spot between the wall and my chest. Her fingers tangled in the thick fabric of the navy blue shirt I was wearing to bed, and we both went to sleep, happily tangled together.

Needless to say, two weeks later, her bunk was sacrificed to the Dirt Gods without comment.

* * *

Our first night back on Hermes was a good one. We had both showered, so we didn't reek anymore, and she had gotten a haircut. It was combed out now, to a much neater length. We both suffered from the pain broken bones though, me in my ribs; her in her collar bone. We both slowly moved down the ship to the cabins, where we both entered mine. Johannsen and Beck were in hers, and the rest of the crew in their designated cabins, happily relaxing.

I laid down slowly, my chest still very sore, and she sat down next to me, even more slowly.

"I have something to show you." She said, sitting next to me. I opened my eyes. "What is it?"

She opened her palm, revealing three objects. The first was a Mars rock, more like a pebble. It was smooth and sandy colored, about the size of a half dollar. The other two objects were hardware chips.

"I saved them from the Hab computers and my camera. Your log is on here and all the other information. Along with all the photos that I took while we drove in the rover." She was smiling, laughing at the astonishment on my face.

"Holy shit. You saved them? How?" I looked up at her, but did not sit up. Hell no. Way too tired.

"They were small enough that I could risk taking them with us without adding any extra weight. I tucked them in my bra. That's why I have severe bruises along my sternum. I'm planning on making the rock into a necklace."

"One hell of an expensive necklace." I murmured, pulling on her hand to get her to come lay down next to me. She set her chips and rock down in her container of personal things, then she came to lay down next to me. Her warm form curled up into my side, and she sighed, a single tear rolling down her cheek. I wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

I looked down, and I could see the deep bruises spreading across her chest, from the pressure of the launch in the MAV. "I thought I might lose you." I murmured, pressing another kiss to her hair.

"But you didn't." Came her soft voice in response. Her lips brushed my throat. "I'm right here."

"I know." I dipped my head down and she tilted hers up, meeting my lips halfway. The kiss was light, chaste almost, but it was enough to convey all the emotions that were felt at that moment. She pulled away first, and said, grinning mischievously, "I have a lot of pictures of you on my camera chip."

I stared at her. "Really now? Really?"

She nodded. "Yep." Harley curled back down into my side, fingers tangling in my dark blue shirt. It was silent for a while, except for the humming of the ship, the whirring of the oxygenator, the water-reclaimer, the burn of the ion engines. Peace. We were heading home. To earth. I wasn't doomed to fucking die on Mars. Harley wasn't doomed to fucking die on Mars. Mission accomplished. Fuck you Mars.

"I love you Mark." Came her soft whisper. I felt the tears come to my eyes, throat choking up, I looked over at her. She looked up at me, and started at seeing the tears, but smiled gently, wiping them away.

"You're not alone. Ever. Okay?"

I nodded. "I… I love you too Harley." I rolled onto my good side and curled around her, smiling when I heard her purr happily at the sudden increase in Mark warmth. She tucked her hands into the fabric of my shirt, her legs tangled with mine. I wrapped both arms around her, holding her head and shoulders with one arm, and her waist and back with the other. She was wearing my shirt. I couldn't be happier.

She was home.


	3. The Airlock Scene

The Airlock Scene

I depressurized the airlock, the one that I always used. Airlock 1. Harley was already outside, checking over the rover and the other equipment after the night. She might also be sweeping off the solar panels, and I was praying that she would, because I really didn't want to. Because I'm lazy. Anyway, I went to open the door, and shit went down. The airlock exploded off the Hab, and sent me flying through the air in a deadly tumble-dryer of hell.

"MARK! Oh My—GAH!" The airlock hit something substantial, and then silence. There was no other sounds from my microphone. The flying airlock hit the ground with one last, final, jarring thud, and ceased to move. It didn't stop the leak from my helmet or the sinking feeling in my gut though. I was sure the airlock had hit her. That would be a brutal amount of force, and she was a small thing. Unless she had somehow deflected the blow, she would be injured, and potentially in life threatening danger. Shit.

I pulled out my repair kit from my helmet, and managed to stop the leak to maintainable levels. I now had ten minutes to find her, before I risked dying from oxygen toxicity. It took me a minute to realize that the airlock door was down in the dirt, so I had to body slam the damn thing to get it flip over. Except it didn't flip over. It scooted along the ground about a meter or so. Fantastic. Fucking Airlock. Just fail me now, why don't you.

It took several tries, and I'll definitely have a sore back tomorrow, but I got the thing to flip enough so I could get out of there. When I stepped out, I was greeted with utter chaos. The hab had been exposed to near vacuum, and there was shit everywhere. But that wasn't as important right now. Where was Harley? I looked about, and didn't see any sign of her.

"M-mark?" Her voice was a throaty, scratchy whisper, but a whisper. She was alive. Thank the gods.

"Harley? Where are you?" I asked, relief flooding my voice. No I wasn't crying, damnit. I got some… dust in my eye. Dust.

"Not quite sure. I think I'm stuck under something. Heavy something. I was near the rover when I was hit. Thrown backward. Try from there. My suit and helmet are intact. Home in on my telemetry signal, maybe?" Her voice was more solid now. But she was definitely in some pain.

"Hang on. Let me get another helmet, and then I'll come find you. Mine cracked when the airlock exploded. Are you okay?" I started for the Hab, I knew that Vogel's completely intact suit and helmet were there. Somewhere.

"I'm in one piece. Not sure if I'll be able to move without limping for another couple days. My leg hurts like a bitch. Heh." She chuckled a bit, and then went silent.

"Just brushed off my helmet. I'm… underneath the rover. Half buried in dirt."

I straightened up from pulling Vogel's helmet off his suit, exactly where it had been before the chaos. I tucked it underneath my arm, and exited the canvas of the hab, where I headed for the rover.

"Hang on. How the hell did you get under there? Can you see me coming?" I stopped next to the airlock door and waited.

"Yeah. I can see your boots. They're less than a meter away from my head."

"Will you be okay for five more minutes while I switch out my helmet?" I was poised to enter the rover.

"Yeah. Save yourself from the leaky helmet of doom. I'll be here."

I laughed, and entered the rover, pulling off my leaky helmet when the pressure stabilized. I clasped on Vogel's, and checked the levels of oxygen in the suit. Oxygen- 21%. I was okay. Phew. I exited the rover again, and crouched down to look under the rover with my arm camera. Sure enough, there she was, sprawled out underneath the rover, half buried in sand.

I lowered myself onto my belly and snaked crawled to her. I locked my hands under her armpits, and pulled. I heard her grunt, but she let me pull her out from the pile of sand. Once I had maneuvered her from under the rover, she sat up slowly, and murmured. "Thanks. What are we gonna do about the hab?"

"I need to reattach the airlock back to the Hab. From then on, we will have to use airlock 2 and 3. But I want you to contact NASA for me. They're probably shitting bricks now, because they saw the Airlock explode."

"No complaints here. I'll go chat up the worrywarts. Tell 'em we are alive." She chuckled a bit, and slowly stood, using my offered hand and my shoulder as support to get to the rover.

Once she was in, I made my way to the airlock of doom, and flipped it off. I could hear her laughter, and started when I realized that she had kept her radio on, just so I had someone to talk to. Awesome. She never failed to surprise me.

"Tell it to fuck itself for me. NASA is gonna flip."

"Will do. Harley says to tell you to fuck yourself airlock." She laughed out loud, and I could hear her typing on the computer in the rover, followed by some of her modern, thank the gods, rock music.

"No disco?" I asked, walking around the fallen airlock and beginning the epic quest of rolling it back over to the hab. She laughed again, finished her typing, and then responded with,

"You know, when we get back, we need to introduce Lewis to rock music. Who knows? She might like it."

I tried to respond with an affirmative, but I was busy trying not to violently swear at the heavy airlock. Instead, all she got a was a grunt.

"NASA is freaking out, but they are relieved that you and I are both okay. I told them that you are going to repair the airlock, and now we are waiting for a response."

"How on earth… are you communicating with me… Gahh… Mother fucker…. And listening to music at the same time?"

"It's called being a computer geek and an electrician. I just wired the radio in my helmet to the speakers and screen of the computer in here. I can see what you are doing right now too."

"That's not fair." I shoved the airlock another ten meters closer to the hab. Twenty more meters to go. Sigh.

"All is fair in love and war, my magical botanist."

"Damn straight. Fear my botany powers."

* * *

In the end, three miserable hours later, I got the airlock reattached, the leaks filled, and I started to survey the damage done to the inside of the hab.

The farm is dead. After being exposed to near vacuum, the potato plants were dead, and their martian taters were freeze dried. I'd have to harvest them and count them. But there probably wouldn't be enough. Blegh. I grabbed our blankets and two pillows and stalked out of the hab, heading to the rover where Harley was.

"I hope that you like Mr. Rover. Looks like we are going to have to sleep in him tonight."

"Shit. That bad?" I could hear the wince in her voice.

"Yeah. There's dirt and what not everywhere." I reached the rover and climbed in, throwing the blankets in before I went through the inner door of the airlock.

She glanced over, and did a double take at the pillow and blanket pile, and smiled happily when I made it in and pulled off my helmet. She turned around to face me, but didn't get up. I laid my helmet on the floor in the corner, and threw the pillows and blankets in the other corner.

"Let's get comfortable." I started stripping off my EVA suit and shucked it off, putting it next to my helmet. She made no move to copy me, and still wouldn't stand. I watched her carefully, and she blushed, sighed and then said,

"I can't stand without pain. I did something to my left leg. Help me get this suit off?"

I nodded and moved to her, starting to remove the suit, unbuckling the straps, and pulling the suit off of her small frame. She let me, and didn't move when I pulled her boots off and then removed the suit. She winced when I pulled it off her legs, but I just set it aside and rolled her pant leg up enough to let me look at it.

It was even worse than I expected, the massive bruising extending up to nearly her knee, and it reached well down her leg to her foot. I felt along it gently, and pressed down slightly. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from yelping, but didn't stop me. If it had been broken, she would have passed out, or yelled at me. It clearly didn't hurt her that badly, so it was just deep bruising, and at worst, a hairline fracture. She would be fine if she took it easy and took Vicodin for it.

"It's just bruising, or hairline fracturing at worst. You'll be okay. Where were you hit?"

"I thought as much." Her voice was very matter of fact. "I was hit directly in the center of my torso, just hard enough to throw me backward. My leg is bruised because I smacked it on the rover, I think."

"Does anything else hurt?" I was blushing just at the thought.

"My ribs a bit, but just from aftershock I think. I'll be fine."

"Let me see. I need to make sure you're okay." In short, feel guilty as all hell and I want to make sure I didn't almost kill you.

"Mark…" She sighed, and stripped off her t-shirt, revealing her plain black bra. Her torso was slim and slender, toned and curvy. And there was deep bruising all along her sides and along her hips. My fingers brushed the bluish-purple discoloration and I frowned. Harley was injured because of the damn airlock, but there was nothing I could do about that. The fact that she was injured though, is what really bothered me. I don't like it when people I am close to are hurting. I want to help them, to take their pain and carry it for them, so they don't hurt anymore. And I couldn't take this pain from her, it was physical pain, not emotional.

Her hand came to rest on mine, and I looked up from my kneeling position in front of her. "I'm alright. Just bruised. Aikido training was way worse than this. Don't worry Mark."

I nodded slowly, and pressed a gentle kiss to her bruised hip. She inhaled sharply, but didn't move away, just looking down at me in confusion. I leaned up and kissed her gently, and she kissed me back, her hand coming up to tangle in my hair, the other framing my face. I kept my hand on her hip, the other resting on her thigh. She pulled away for air, and then kissed me again, her tongue flicking out to brush against my lower lip. I opened my mouth and let her in, and she took it, the slick muscle slipping along mine.

I groaned into her mouth, and she smirked into the kiss, before pulling away.

"You feel better now, sugar?" She was smiling.

"Where are you from again?" I nodded to her question.

"Jacksonville, Florida." She laughed. "Is it obvious?"

"Yeah. Especially the sugar thing."

I laid out the blankets and pillows on the floor, and she hobbled over to join me, pulling her shirt back on. I helped lower her down to the makeshift bed and then climbed in next to her, and Harley snuggled into my chest. I held her close, careful not to put too much pressure on her bruises, and I kept my leg away from her hurt one.

She tangled her fingers in my shirt and sighed, happily relaxing down into the bed. I sighed, wondering about what we were gonna do about the food problem at hand. The farm was dead. We had literally no other options for food. If we didn't figure something else out, we were dead. If NASA didn't figure something out, we were dead. Shit.

I closed my eyes and relaxed down next to her, deciding to think about food in the morning. Tomorrow we had a busy day, with re-organizing the Hab and gathering the stuff that was out on the surface. I wondered how well Harley was going to be able to use her leg. We'll find out tomorrow morning. But for now, I'm going to bed. Blegh.

* * *

Oh God, last night sucked. It was cold, hard, and uncomfortable. But now we are back in the hab. The fixed up, organized Hab. The hab that we might die of starvation in. The hab that no longer has any farm in it.

I got enough potatoes out of the farm in total to last us about another 120 days. With the amount of food we have left, we'll last until Sol 549. Not nearly long enough.

Harley is able to walk now, she just has a massive limp and is on Vicodin. She's outside, communicating with NASA. Whoever trained that girl in electronics, I want to hug you. She somehow managed to get the communications working just enough that she can communicate via her helmet radio to the hab, so we are in constant communication.

"NASA is freaking out about me. And the Hab. Mostly the Hab. They think you totally fucked it up and we are screwed. Should I tell them that you are in there without an EVA suit on and that there are no leaks and the pressure is stable?"

"Yeah. Tell them that there is no problem with any of the life support and electrical systems too."

"Alright, cool." I could hear her typing away, and then I heard the definite click of her hitting send. Then she sat back and sighed. She clicked a few things, typed again, and I heard some music click on. What I didn't hear, was her tug her helmet back on, and go outside the rover. She pulled out her camera, and took some really awesome pictures, of the surrounding area, Phobos, the hab, the rover, and some really cool panoramas.

A smooth stone, about the size of a half dollar caught her eye, and she carefully picked it up, and then walked back to the rover, and climbed back in. Once in, she took off her helmet and tucked the camera away and the stone into her bra. She wanted to save it. The response came from NASA. All was well for now.

We were still doomed to fucking die on Mars. Shit.


	4. First Night

I entered the airlock and waited for it to pressurize. I pulled off my helmet when it did, and I entered the Hab. The Farm was growing well, and the potatoes were close to harvest in ripeness. I shucked off my EVA suit and hung it up, along with my helmet. Harley was nowhere to be found. I wasn't surprised. She was probably fiddling with some electronics or maybe calculating routes to Schiaparelli crater. Knowing her, she could also be taking a nap.

I walked along the plants, checking them over, and once I was satisfied, I stood up. I began to move to the kitchen, intent on getting some water, when I heard it. I froze, and just listened, jaw dropping in shock.

But I'm only Human

And I bleed when I fall down.

Cause I'm only human, and I crash and I break down

Your words in my head, knives in my heart

You build me up and then I fall apart

But I'm only human

She was singing. And crying. Her beautiful voice was cracking and I could almost hear the tears. I came around the corner, and there she was. Curled up on our bed with my pillow hugged to her chest, her face streaked with tears. I immediately crawled into bed with her, my arms automatically wrapping around her thin shoulders. She was already losing weight, and her once full of life facial features, were filled with sadness and hunger and pain.

She tossed the pillow aside and buried her face in my chest, sobs wracking her thin frame. I just rocked her back and forth, murmuring gentle reassurances in her ear. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and held me close to her, and I was surprised by the tightness of her grip.

"Hey... Did something happen?" I ask, never letting her go. She nodded, but didn't say anything. I planted a kiss on her head, her dark hair smelling like dirt and plants and Harley. Harley had a gentle scent, it smelled musky and generally like jasmine. It was pretty and it suited her.

"Just... Don't ever leave me. Please." Her voice was breaking, cracking on her last plea. I started, and just squeezed her to me.

"I won't. I promise."

She looked up, and took in the sincerity of my words. Then she nodded and breathed out slowly, sitting up to wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry. It just... Got to me."

"Don't be. It's okay. You are only human." I was still laying down, but I shifted over to lay on my back, looking up at her. She looked down at me, from her sitting position, then leaned down and kissed me. I willingly kissed her back, my hand coming up to cup the back of her head. Her tongue came out to brush mine, and she crept her hands up my shirt, small fingers stroking along my stomach. My hips twitched in response, and I tugged her closer. She swung a leg over my hips and straddled me, and I groaned into her mouth.

When we separated for air, her eyes darkened slightly, a wicked grin twisting her lips.

"What do you think people would say if I told them my first time was on Mars?"

My jaw dropped, and I sat up, staring at her intently. How had this girl not gotten laid before?

"You better not be joking." I say, my voice stern.

She looks away, her face pink. "I'm not. I've never had sex before. I never met someone I wanted to have sex with, other than you. Though plenty of people wanted me."

I could feel the hard on rising in my pants, and I ignored it. Her face was pretty, her jaw line softly angled in a feminine way. Her eyes were wide and shaped like wide almonds, and bore the wisdom and mystery of oceans in their depths. Her skin was fair, and her hair was a beautiful deep chocolate, and it hung long, reaching her waist. A full figure was balanced by long, and muscular, legs. But she hadn't lost much weight yet, which was a good thing.

"Are you doing this because you want to, or because of the bragging rights?" I ask, quite certain I knew the answer.

"I want it because I love you idiot." She says, leaning forward to kiss me, her lips gentle. I pull away after a few seconds.

"Sing for me again?" She smiles and softly starts to sing, her voice steady and beautiful.

But I'm only Human

And I bleed when I fall down.

Cause I'm only human, and I crash and I break down

Your words in my head, knives in my heart

You build me up and then I fall apart

But I'm only human

My lips collide with hers, and she lets me push her down onto the bunk, my hips coming to rest between her legs. I grunt into the kiss when her hips press into my hard on. I pull back, and she grins back up at me.

"I love you Harley."

The rest of the night is just everything. Her heat, the desperate cries, the groans, the moans, her warm eyes darkened with something akin to passion, and her small hands clawing onto my back. She can feel the love bursting from my chest, my lips dragging down her hot, sweating skin. I'm left with an armful of swearing, loving passion. I can feel her breasts pressing into my chest as I hold her close.

She cries out, and I follow her quickly, hips snapping forward a few times and a deep moan tearing from my throat. I lay on her, and her hands stroke through my sweaty hair. I can feel her lips brushing my head, just above my ear, I can hear her heart. She's alive and here with me.

We stay like that, alive and warm, for the rest of the night. Because we were only human. Humans who were deathly afraid we were doomed to die, a miserable death. Humans who just can't always be strong.

End-

Authors Note: please Review! I need ideas for more of these. There is another in the works. So stay tuned! Thank ya'll so much! Leave ideas in reviews or a PM.


	5. Iron Man

Mark and Harley: Iron Man

(MOVIE VERSION)

"…. Do you copy? Watney, do you copy?" Well, that's a lovely thing to wake up to. Gotta love her commander voice. And oh shit, does my chest hurt.

"Copy Commander Lewis. Don't think that Harley is awake yet." I hear his voice over my radio, and my vision then comes back into focus, and I find that I'm staring at a whole bunch of bolts, screws, some leftover tarp, and the lovely, cratered, glowing red surface of Mars.

"Fuck you… mars." I say, voice barely a whisper. I'm trying not to scream with the pain that is my now broken sternum or collarbone. One of the two. Or both.

"Do you copy, Chima?" Came Lewis's voice over my radio, but I can hear the crew trying not to laugh. Mark chuffs out a snort of amusement. I had to really work to resist the urge to roll my eyes at her question.

"Copy Commander." I could hear the cheering of the crew on board the Hermes at that.

"How do you feel?"

"Like someone snapped me in half and then just glued me back together." I say, wincing and trying to string together some very colorful language.

"We'll have Beck check you out when you are on board." Well gee, thanks. I thought you were just gonna send him out now.

I manage to turn enough to barely make out Mark, who was sitting next to me. I reach out and touch his gloved hand, and his closes around mine, in a surprisingly tight grip. I don't say anything, just hold hands with him and we watch Mars and space go around us.

I feel reality hit me when Lewis radios to us saying that we have a problem, and that we are 68 kilometers apart. She says later on that they have a plan, and Mark and I say, at the same time,

"Yay. A plan."

"Whoo. Plan. I like plans."

"We aren't on Mars anymore." I say, coming to the utter realization that we really aren't. We aren't fucking doomed to die on its rusty, red surface. If this intercept didn't go well though, we would die out in space. Yay. That's much better.

* * *

"Did she just say 300 meters?" Asks Mark in disbelief.

I would be facepalming if I could, so instead I face-helmet. Not quite the same effect, but you get the idea.

"… 300…. Meters?" I whisper. They'll totally miss. We were doomed.

"Great. I'll wave as we go by." He says. Sarcasm king, thy name is Mark Watney.

I stare at Mark's face plate, and I would be protesting and calling him an idiot if this wasn't the only plan we had left.

* * *

"Ready?" He asks, and I respond with, "Yes."

He punctures his suit, in his palm with the screwdriver, and clenches his hand shut quickly, and he hands it to me. I do the same, and we clench our hands. I throw the screwdriver away, and we both cling on to each other with our free hands, and we manage to maneuver out of the MAV. Or what was left of it. The ghetto spacecraft was just a shadow of its former self, but it got us off of Mars. Thanks man.

We turn to see Lewis out there at the end of her tether, and she is looking in our direction. Clearly she is watching us. Mark turns us with a well-aimed thrust of his space suit, now turned iron man suit. I unclench my hand just a bit to counter thrust, to keep us in a straight line. He opens his hand, giving us the speed we need, and I steer, clinging tight to Mark's space suit with my other hand. He holds onto me. 20 more meters… 10 more meters…. 5…. 3….

I bring my hand before my face, slowing us down slightly, before we crash into Lewis. But we don't crash into Lewis. We miss her, just barely, and I can feel her hand losing its grip on my suit. We both manage to catch onto her tether, sending us flying around in frantic circles. We both are clenching our hands closed, to stop any additional thrusting.

Lewis is frantically trying to catch us, and after a bit of tether tangling and a lot of circles and cursing on my part, she manages to grab me first.

I cling onto her suit with my good hand, and I hear her over my radio.

"Chima. Do you copy?" Her voice is awash with relief, and I can hear Mark's sigh through the radio.

"I copy. Now onward to rescue Mark." I say, eyes brimming with tears.

"If you don't mind." I hear him say, voice cracking. We slowly manage to get to Mark and he grabs hold of the two of us.

"Mark!" I cry, and I feel him grab onto me.

"Harley." He's crying.

"We've got you." Says Lewis, and I can hear the tears in her voice.

"You really have terrible taste in music, you know that?" Says Mark, grinning his sorry ass off.

"Really Watney?" I say, the Oh-My-god-you-did-not-just-do-that in my voice making him laugh.

"Oh yeah." He says, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

"Relative velocity to Hermes is zero." Comes Johannsen's voice over the radio. "Reel them in, Beck."

"Roger that." I hear him say, and we slowly begin to move closer to the Hermes, which is to our right. After some special maneuvering, we manage to get to the opening where Beck is standing.

We clamber inside the airlock, and I go first, followed by Mark, and then Lewis, and Beck closes the airlock behind us.

"Welcome back, Guys." He says, the smile evident on his face. The inner airlock door opens, and Vogel and Johannsen come flying in, the grins a million miles wide on their faces.

"Harley! Mark!" Comes Johannsen's voice, and the smiles and laughter proceed.


	6. Bath scene

Just as I sunk down in my glorious bath, sighing with a movie like 'ahhhh.' The airlock made it's epic swishing and vooming noise of someone entering it. Harley was back inside from hurling rocks around to leave a message for NASA, and she had also swept off the solar cells. She deserves a medal guys, seriously. I just laid there in my makeshift tub, and closed my eyes, and decided that a nap in my tub of awesome sounded fantastic.

The inner airlock door swished open, and the swick swick sounds of Harley's suit came in, the door swished close, followed by the sound of her fumbling her helmet off and breathing in some new air. She glanced over, saw me in my tub, and I'm not kidding you, I could feel her concern from here.

After many belts being undone and lots of fabric shifting and mumbled curses, Harley came over to my tub side and knelt down in the traces of dirt still on the hab floor. Her strong, calloused, but still small hand links with mine on the edge of the tub.

"How 'ya doin' Mark?" Have I mentioned that her accent is beautiful? Because it is.

"My back hurts, but I'm warm. So, good for now." I mumbled back. Her chin comes to rest on top of our joined hands, but she doesn't say anything, just stays with me for another half an hour.

"When you get out, come and lay down. I have an idea that might help your back." She says, getting up, planting a kiss on my head, and walking off quietly.

I open one eye and watch as her hips sway with her gentle walk, braid trailing down her back as she walks off. It takes a lot of effort to stop blatantly staring at her ass as she walks off.

As I walk to the bed after toweling my hair dry, just my pants on currently, I forgot a clean shirt, she is waiting for me. Sprawled on one end of the bed, a computer hard drive halfway assembled across her right thigh. Harley has a look on her face that makes me think that the computer drive might just be better off running away now. Or maybe just disappearing from the face of existence.

"It shorted itself out. Do they even do that now? Why? Is it some kind of practical joke?" She was glaring at it with a look of exasperation. It was totally adorable. Did I mention that she is adorable when she talks to herself? Because she really is. She looks up when she notices that I'm about to put my shirt on, and her eyes widen. I meet her eyes and don't move, wondering what she is looking at.

"Uh…." I smile at the look on her face. I think she forgot how words work.

Her eyes rake along my form, and I can feel her take in the sight of the well-defined muscles I still sported, as I hadn't lost too much weight yet. She blushes when she realizes that I caught her staring.

"Oh! Uh, sorry. You won't need the shirt, Mark." She tucks the hardware she was fiddling with onto a small shelf by the window and stands up. I look at her for a couple seconds, more than a little confused, before it clicks and I smile at her. Without another question, I lay down on my front and get comfortable, closing my eyes.

I take as long as I can to really stare and watch him move. Mark is a beautiful, handsome man. He hasn't lost much weight at all yet, and is still very toned, his skin looking soft and well cared for. Slowly, I get back up on the bed and rest my hands on his back, and I discover that I was right. His skin is soft, and the dips and curves of his back were a wonder to run my hands over.

Carefully, as I knew his back was very sore from all the hauling around of rocks, I applied a bit of pressure with my fingertips to map out where the particularly bad knots were. A low groan emanated from Mark, who's eyes were still closed, thank god, but I never stopped. I moved up to his shoulders, and began working on the right one, kneading the muscles to relaxation with my thumbs. The sound that came out of his mouth made me blush like never before, but I kept going, switching to his left shoulder when it was necessary. I was kneeling by his head, knees on either side of his face, and I smiled when his arms came up to loosely circle around my waist.

After working the knots free from his shoulders, I eased the tension from his neck and stroked several strong loops down his spine, thumbs on either side of the divot down the centre of his back. He groaned again, half in pain, half in pleasure, his hands tightening on my hips. Using my palms and the heels of my hands, I worked the planes of muscles on his back to relax, not working with deep tissue massage quite yet. He made yet another sound of pain, and I winced, stopping midway through a stroke. His eyebrows were furrowed together in pain, his fingers gripping tightly to my hips.

"I'm sorry. Too much?" My hands never left his back, just resting on his skin.

"No." His voice was strained, and raspy with pain. "Keep going. It'll help." His grip loosened on my hips, arms coming around to just hold me close. I could feel the ever growing blush escalate.

"Alright. Let me know when to stop." My palms resume their original pressure and finish the stroke, and I can feel the deep knots throughout his mid to lower back. This was going to take some serious work. I start from his shoulders, and using my thumbs, begin swirling circles of deep, even pressure, easing the knots free. Mark doesn't move, just breathes underneath my hands, trusting me.

It takes nearly half an hour, but as I test my strokes over his back again, the knots have given and the muscles are relaxed. Mark sighs, and I sit back, stretching out my hands.

"They're gone now. Make sure to drink a lot of water. That's a lot of toxins I just released." He nods, and rolls over, making no move to get up.

"That was amazing. Thank you." His dark eyes open, and meet mine. They're dark and heavy with relief.

"You're welcome."


End file.
